


Hot Honeyed Cider

by Algrenion



Category: Lord of the Rings - Fandom, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, lotr - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-12
Updated: 2015-07-12
Packaged: 2018-04-08 23:36:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4325187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Algrenion/pseuds/Algrenion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a drabble from a good while back of mine and Cas' OCs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hot Honeyed Cider

**Author's Note:**

> Farnynn/Faruq belongs to Cas: cuteleesi.tumblr.com
> 
> Aarhir belongs to myself.

The flame just barely licked the thick skin of his palm as it passed above the candle, offering a pleasant tingle and tickle to occupy his senses in the stillness of their quaint little lodging. There was a window. The moonlight spilling in from its corner helped Farnynn see in the dim; a bookshelf full of old clutter like dusty teacups and half-rotten books, the floors and walls laden with dark varnished wood, and the names of young lovers scratched into bed frames. 

Earlier in the evening Farnynn showed particular interest in the carving of a young maid in the corner of the room, upon her shoulders resting the pelt of a wolf. The innkeeper carved it himself, he had said. A tribute to his good lady wife, who had offered them the hot, honeyed cider and fresh made pasties of potato and mutton, which Farnynn still was enjoying well into the night. Kindlier still were the old couple, even going so far as to give young Joffrey a room of his own. The little lord was growing after all, he would have to learn to sleep alone before pig bristles sprouted from his chin.

Between the lingering taste of good food in his mouth, the tickle of flame beneath his fingers, the tranquilizing scents of sweet cider and musky wood, and the bunches of lavender travelling with them to dull the frequent headaches which Farnynn would suffer, he flickered a smile to himself. What an odd thing, that sensation could so easily quell frustration and boredom and general negativity.

Cracking his eyes open after a time of allowing them rest, his gaze slid over to his travelling companion, laying in the bed with his back turned to him. Aarhir’s attire rest on the bedside table in a neat and well folded little pile, his lower half hidden under piles of furs and blankets, and his bare back exposed and illuminated by little more than the moon and the candles they’d lit. Farnynn watched him for some time — examined the unnatural softness of his breaths and the way his muscle shifted against the flickering candlelight, dimples coming and going in his shoulders with each breath. His hair was not so stiff that night, either, the rain having washed out half the oils. Now, as Farnynn noted, he smelled far less obnoxiously floral, and with waves of soft curls spilling over his pillow — what would more likely be their pillow for the night — he did sigh something quiet and contented, admiring what he knew was that spellbinding beauty of the elves that remained in his lover no matter how hard he wished it away.

"I can feel your eyes on me." Soft and just a slight touch on the croaky side, Aarhir spoke to the other and awaited a response. Before he received one, however, Farnynn would take his time in sipping from the stein in his hand, sucking foam out the stubble of his upper lip.

"Do you blame me?" He responded with a twitch of his brows.

Raising his head to look back at the other from over his shoulder, Aarhir caught Farnynn’s eye and held it in place for a time, before gently settling down again. “Do not test me for my vanity. You know how I’d answer that question.” Eyes falling shut rather briefly, silence fell again between them and Farnynn returned to waving his hand over the candle’s flame, although still, he did watch over the other. Eventually Aarhir spoke up to him again, voice clearer than it had been beforehand. “Lay with me, Farnynn.”

His actions of idleness ended there, Farnynn remaining in place for a moment longer. Then he sipped his drink, placed it gently on the little round table beside him, and stood to shift over to their bedside. The wooden planks creaked beneath the weight of him as he moved across the room, much louder to him than to Aarhir considering the contrast between it and silence. Reaching his lover, he eased himself down onto his side until rested beside him, propped up enough on his elbow to watch down at Aarhir as he twisted enough to watch up at him in return. For so long they didn’t speak. They only savoured the time in which there wasn’t any hatred or conflict between them, no unnecessary paranoia. They simply locked the green of their eyes, Aarhir’s deep and Farnynn’s bright, and after long enough they flickered soft smiles at one another.

"Shall we be friends tonight?" His voice a low, rumbling purr, Farnynn leaned in a touch to brush his nose against Aarhir’s. Long and nimble fingers came up to slide into the short tufts of hair left on Farnynn’s recently-sheared head, cropped enough that Aarhir’s skin went numb when he touched it. A sigh slipped from between the elf’s slightly curled lips.

"I have been a bitter soul, lately, have I not..?"

Farnynn leaned slightly back to look down at him better, bringing a hand in to push some of the curls out of Aarhir’s face. “You certainly have had your moments… But let’s forget about tiffs and fallings out for the night,” he smiled kindly to the other, who seemed worried at the prospect of being so cruel. “We’ve a roof above our heads, food in our bellies and a warm bed to dream in.”

They went quiet, then, for a short while at least. Aarhir’s smile slowly slipped from his features, as much as he’d have liked to keep it there, and his hands came to rest over the taller man’s shoulders. “I named you such terrible things.”

"That, I am used to."

"I told you you disgust me…"

"And I don’t?"

Only briefly did Aarhir falter, but his answer was spoken with certainty. “Your pleasures concern me at times. But in thought without obscurity, I do not doubt the goodness in you.” Farnynn watched him still, though he was left at a slight loss for words with that answer, unsure of whether or not to be pleased or dissatisfied with it. Recognizing his conflict, Aarhir let his gaze fall to the man’s lips, fingertips rubbing sweet-tempered circles into the base of Farnynn’s skull.

"You know that I loved, as a boy…" Though his eyes glazed over with something of sadness, his lips again twitched with a very slight smile, humour carried barely in his tone. "Or so I thought that I did, but it remained unconfirmed and unacknowledged, and buried beneath my fear and my naivety until I could no longer make use of it…"

"You needn’t speak of it, Aarhir, I know how it pains you."

"Needn’t I?" Farnynn received a smile, Aarhir raising his eyes to look at him directly again. Given a second to watch the man, he slid his hands up to hold either side of Farnynn’s face, speaking to him in that soft soothing tone that he only ever offered at the best of times. In a state of slight confusion, he blinked down at the elf as he continued. "I have lost love to death before… I will not lose this."

Was that a confession that rolled off his tongue? Feeling an odd little pang of excitement and his heart beating faster in his chest, Farnynn cupped Aarhir’s cheek, voice deep and easy on his ears. “Do you mean to say you love me…?”

Though not fully prepared to admit it so outwardly, Aarhir’s gaze remained locked on the other’s, “…Kiss me.” Fingertips tracing the contours of Farnynn’s cheeks for a moment, he slowly began to draw the man in, ghosting their lips together to taste the sweetness on his breath from the alcohol. “I give myself to you. Kiss me and have me, Farnynn…” No specific request was needed for Farnynn to pull himself more fully onto the bed, pushing the piles of fur and pelt aside so he could lock his hips in between Aarhir’s legs, slow and very gentle in each of his movements. Aarhir spoke on with a hitch in his breath, and his hands sliding southwards to fiddle at the ties of the man’s shirt. “Take me now before death may,” he requested, his lovers hands growing more eager in finding the lines of the elf’s hips, having him arch lightly off the bed. “Make it quiver before the life in us…”

Their lips locked then, and remained so for some time, sharing in a warm, tender kiss. Upon parting from each other, Farnynn’s found skin again, speaking low against the union of his throat and his jaw. “You are truly a queer and outlandish soul, Aarhir…”

"Only for you."

Hands slid away from Farnynn, then, that throaty purr grew fainter as he trailed his appreciative lips down the length of the elf’s body. Attentive hands would hold his waist, Farnynn’s kiss would grow more intimate. The warmth and yearning in Aarhir’s voice when he uttered the man’s name was exclusive; he was the only soul who’d ever hear it, and he heard it many times that night.


End file.
